


Liar

by Hoodoo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Moriarty breaks his toys. Jim Moriarty does not. This is a short exploration of the time Molly dated the Consulting Criminal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liar

James Moriarty breaks his toys.

But Jim, Jim doesn’t; Jim holds hands and giggle-laughs and not only sits through insipid romantic comedies, he recommends them.

Jim is a good guy, a good boyfriend, a good fake.

Little mousy Molly had been so flattered. She’d blushed and stammered when he pulled together enough courage to talk to her (he told her he’d asked around about her, because he was scared she had a big, muscle-y boyfriend), and readily agreed to go out for coffee. The brief hesitation and thin line that appeared between her brows the second after she agreed told him she thought she’d looked too desperate, too eager.

Jim chuckled and looked away, abashed himself, to demonstrate that he was nervous too.

That coffee date paved the way to others: walks down Charing Cross Road to browse used bookstores, movies, dinners.

One thing led to another, and finally she’d invited him round and they had in-the-dark, fumbly sex.

It was hard for James to stay in the background when Jim had sex, because emotions ran high and it was difficult to not join in the fun.

And finally—finally!—after weeks and months his goal was accomplished; he met in person the renowned Sherlock Holmes. Mr. Holmes’ slippery gaze skimmed down his body and James almost came in his pants, that look was so stimulating, even if the famed detective was only partially right with his ‘gay’ comment.

Jim was able to play the gawky fan role well enough to cover both the semi-hard cock and the flare of anger that Mr. Holmes hadn’t labeled him correctly; James’ sexuality was _fluid,_ he wouldn’t be boxed into society’s ideas of who or what people were allowed to bed.

Jim left his number for Mr. Holmes. James realized John Watson was more important to the detective than the virgin would like to admit.

That night, Molly was incensed; she told him that Sherlock thought he was _gay_. She told him that Jim _wasn’t_ , Jim was with _her_ , he _couldn’t_ be gay, and James stepped up and asked her what she would think if he actually was—would she get off thinking about him sucking another man’s cock? Would she like to see him fucking another man in the arse? No? What if the other man was Sherlock Holmes? What if Molly had a front row seat to the two of them in her full-sized bed, on her flowered sheets, fucking and sucking and moaning, sweating and grasping and coming—

Molly threw him out. Molly threw Jim out, and James let her, laughing all the while. His mission was completed, so it was no big loss to allow Molly the fantasy she was the victor here; as much as he would like to end her he was prudent and wise regarding the pawns he used.

Jim heard her crying on the other side of her flat’s door after she slammed it in his face.

James popped a stick of gum in his mouth and walked away with a grin.

 

_fin._

 

           

 


End file.
